<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Fifty Shades of Sayeed by LLReid</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24904117">The Fifty Shades of Sayeed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid'>LLReid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bloodbound (Visual Novels)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon LGBTQ Character, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Jealousy, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character, Lesbian Sex, Light BDSM, Literally no one in this fic is straight, NSFW, Oral Sex, Same-Sex Marriage, Vampire Sex, Vampires</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:00:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24904117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic inspired by; Never Let Me Go by Florence &amp; The Machine, and Affection by Cigarettes After Sex.</p><p>~~~~~</p><p>“I’m a woman of my word, and can’t very well tie you down and make you scream in here, can I?”</p><p>“Well... you could... but then the rumours that the dildos were yours would never stop and you’d probably inspire a better Fifty Shades trilogy.”</p><p>She huffed and climbed on top of her, laying herself down on her chest. “I could just make you walk to the elevator like that to prove to everyone I don’t need them to wreck you.”</p><p>“Fifty Shades of Sayeed.”</p><p>“How fitting. You already share a name with the protagonist. Should I start calling you Ana?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrian Raines/Serafine Dupont, Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Sayeed, Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Swann, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Never Let Me Go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kamilah couldn’t quite believe that she’d once believed that the older a person gets, the less they love. Looking back, it was easy to see how foolish a belief that had been. It was easy to see that she’d essentially tortured herself over the span of multiple lifetimes, believing that she’d forever be alone, believing that she’d always be nothing more than Gaius’ bloodthirsty queen. When you gain the reputation of having no limits, no weaknesses, and are willing to flood the streets with blood, people don’t ever test your boundaries or break your rules, but Anastasia had changed everything. Absolutely everything. Her life had finally fallen into place, and Anastasia had been the missing piece all along.</p><p>She was trying her hardest to focus on one last work call as they were driven to Serafine’s newest nightclub that was opening in Cannes. Really, she was trying, but her wife was making focusing on anything besides her utterly impossible. Anastasia was knelt on the floor of the limousine and a dark screen between them and their driver and tinted windows hid them from view, and the Bloodkeeper had her like putty in her hands.</p><p>Splayed across the backseat, Kamilah was dressed to the nines. If sex could be painted on a body, that’s what her dress would be. Dark red satin, hugging her every curve from her shoulders to just below her knees — pushed up around her waist whilst Anastasia worked her up.</p><p>Kamilah continued her call, but her quick witted answers had shortened to a series of single words — yes, no, fine— as Anastasia lowered her head to her once again to run her tongue over her. She was very clearly in a go-big-or-go-home mood.</p><p>“Fuck, that’s—,” Kamilah choked out as her fingers tightened in her hair and her body convulsed. Anastasia hummed a little giggle between her thighs. She cleared her throat and did her best to conceal the fact she was breathless and close to finishing, “No, excuse me. Sorry, Mathew. Wasn’t talking to you. Just... just do whatever.”</p><p>“Whatever?,” her assistant echoed on the other end of the phone. “That’s—“</p><p>“Mphhh,” she hissed. Anastasia’s voice murmuring her name goaded her and then she registered the perfect rhythm she was creating in her tightly wound body. One, two, and then three fingers filled her, her tongue lapping flawlessly against her quivering clitoris as she fucked her in earnest, not caring a bit about whatever drama was unfolding in New York. Slowly at first and then the tempo increased as she built the pace. Before she knew it she was panting as the sensations consumed her. Eyes shut tight, she could feel herself grinding against her face and what felt like the palm of her hand or maybe her wrist, loving the friction it created as she penetrated her over and over again.</p><p>“Kamilah, uh— Mrs. Sayeed?”</p><p>“Enough, mortal!,” she snapped. “I will see you when I return to New York, use your common sense and fix the problem! I have neither the time nor the crayons to talk you through everything!”</p><p>She quickly hung up the phone and tossed it onto the leather seat as Anastasia hit that perfect spot and made fireworks explode on the insides of her eyelids. A low, guttural moan escaped from the back of her throat as she held her wife’s head in place, her thighs clamping on either side of her cheeks. </p><p>“Poor Mathew,” Anastasia breathed, nuzzling against her inner thigh. “What happened this time?”</p><p>“He accidentally ordered a box of dildos,” she panted. “How one can accidentally order sex toys is beyond me. Mortals grow more idiotic by the day.”</p><p>“What a legend. Ordering a box of dicks to Kamilah Sayeed’s office when she’s out of the country. I’m beginning to like this guy more and more.”</p><p>She snorted. “The boxes got piled up on his desk, and an intern decided she had to know what was in them, so she opened one. Apparently she wasn’t used to being wrist-deep in dicks because she freaked and dropped one on the floor, which of course turned on and vibrated its way just far enough into the hall for a board member to trip on. He landed face-first on the floor, broke a wrist and chipped a tooth, and Mathew had to explain that his dick was the culprit.”</p><p>Anastasia started laughing hysterically against her thigh. “Please fire him so I can hire him.”</p><p>“I’ll crush his head between my palms before firing him. He ordered dildos! Dildos to my office! The looks I’m going to get! The looks you’re going to get when you visit me! I’ll kill him!”</p><p>“You’re sexy as fuck when you’re threatening to end mortals.”</p><p>She snorted. “I’m aware.”</p><p>“You’re such a delightful boss, honey.”</p><p>“You seem to have no issues obeying my commands,” she breathed whilst doing her best to look offended, but she was really far too exhausted to do anything but smile as her wife settled on the seat beside her and began pressing sweet kisses around her dewy face. Anastasia snuggled against her, and she couldn’t help but realise that she was the first person she’d ever actually wanted to cuddle with after being intimate. It was nice. But she had a feeling it was only nice because it was with Anastasia. She’d turned her entire world upside down, and was the best goddamn thing that had ever happened to her.</p><p>Anastasia giggled and Kamilah felt her mouth go dry at the sight of her. She was just ever so slightly disheveled from being pinned to the backseat and from the glorious half-hour she’d spent on her knees pleasing her. Her thick ginger hair was now so long that it that it grazed her lower back, and was glistening like a sheet of scarlet silk beneath the moonlight streaming through the tinted windows and demanded to be the absolute centre of attention. Her sparkly eyes were steady and an icy shade of blue to balance out the flames of her hair; they were everything that Anastasia was: true and tender, sharp and witty, loving and uncommonly kind. And the skin tight black cocktail dress that left very little to the imagination— it was taking every ounce of Kamilah’s self control to restrain the scandalous impulses that came to her when she looked at it for too long. This was the kind of dress that changed the world. The kind of dress that started entire goddess worshiping religions.</p><p>The younger woman batted her eyelashes, feigning a look of innocence. “Yeah, but I get rewarded when I’m your good girl... even when I’m bratty for you, I still get rewarded eventually.”</p><p>Kamilah’s breath arrested. She honestly felt like she had more of Anastasia in her veins than blood, and it was the most wonderful feeling she’d ever felt. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, “You’re so perfect, Annie.”</p><p>“But—“</p><p>“But nothing,” she scolded, lightly, pushing her down against the leather seats and crawling on top of her. She wasn’t subtle or tactful in the slightest as her lips wandered the canvas of her neck, leaving little bites and kisses, marking her as hers for all to be able to see. “You’ve got beautiful breasts, ass, and that gorgeous red hair that makes me think I’m going to find fire when I gets you under me. And don’t get me started with those eyes of yours. You’ve cornered the market on untouchable class. And what’s more, you’re totally and completely oblivious to it. It’s rather maddening, if you ask me.”</p><p>Anastasia’s breath hitched as Kamilah slipped her hand beneath her dress and pushed her underwear aside. “You should— ah, there, right there— Put me over your lap and spank some goddamn sense into me.”</p><p>Kamilah kissed her lips hard. A decade of marriage had done nothing to lessen the fire burning between them that she’d never found in another partner. It was like Kamilah had struck her match, Anastasia had poured out her gasoline. And they burnt now. All the time. And it was heavenly. Anastasia kissed her back with colour, with drumbeat, and a surgeon’s precision. She kissed her with who she was, the whole sum of her life — and it was all encompassing. This woman was her crack. She could quite literally never get enough, and when she had her she was already thinking about when she could have her next. She loved her so much it was dizzying. More than she could ever love another soul. There hadn’t been a single hour in ten years that she hadn’t thought of her.</p><p>“If I spank you any more you will not be able to sit down for a week,” she murmured against her lips. “I’m sure that when I take your dress off you later I am going to see the outline of my handprint on your ass in the same colour as my dress.”</p><p>“Please?”</p><p>“As you wish,” Kamilah snorted. She pulled her hand free and pushed up her dress a little more, baring her completely. She took only a few seconds to appreciate her pale skin before landing the first strike high up on the back of her thigh. Her gasp was followed by a breathy moan of her name. Followed by another. Then another. Her body was a masterpiece that could easily turn any woman into a drooling sex addict. “Happy now?”</p><p>“More. Please more.”</p><p>“I want to spank you, but also want to know you want it,” she smirked. “I need to hear it sweetheart, tell me you deserve it.”</p><p>“Oh fuck, I do. Please, Kami. Please. Please. I need it.”</p><p>“You’ll be the death of me,” she smirked, her tone low, sending a shiver through Anastasia. She could feel her breath start to quicken at her words, as she moved her so that she was sprawled over her strong lap, her dress tossed over her torso as she administered the spanking. She clenched the moistening muscles between her legs, moaning her name. Kamilah’s eyes sparkled as they watched her responses.</p><p>Anastasia simply smiled and tangled her fingers up in her hair as lay her back down on the seat, and she wrapped both legs around her waist. Kamilah went slack jawed and her brows rose when she took her in. Her impish smirk was painted a crimson so dark it was nearly the colour of fresh blood. Surprise was the nectar of the gods for an immortal, and she kept her on her toes. She might’ve looked like the sweetest person in the world, but she was certainly no docile little Barbie doll. She had so much spark and so much fire that she would never allow anyone to tame; but trusted Kamilah to guide. She challenged, and rebelled against her, and pushed her on every level... and Kamilah wouldn't have had it any other way.</p><p>“Hope that doesn’t hurt too much,” she smirked.</p><p>“It’s perfect.” She blinked up at her, eyes gloriously unfocused, and grooves crease her forehead. </p><p>“Where did you go, gorgeous girl?,” she breathed, nuzzling her neck.</p><p>“You are intoxicating. If you ordered me to stop breathing, I’d die trying.”</p><p>Kamilah snorted. “None of that. Life's too short not to spend every waking moment doing someone you love.“</p><p>They’d always had a domination/submission vibe going on, this strong-as-fuck chemistry, and it was the most beautiful fucking thing in the world, as far as Kamilah was concerned. Anastasia’s  trust in her not to hurt her, to protect her to her utmost limits — and beyond… it was as tender and raw and solid as a butterfly set in steel.</p><p>“What do you want first? My kiss or my fangs?,” she whispered. </p><p>“Bite me!”</p><p>When she bit her, it was just as intimate as sliding inside her. She smiled as she drank from her. She was a wickedly passionate, fiercely dominant woman who loved her too much to ever really hurt her. With her, biting was lovely.</p><p>She knew her far better than she’d ever known any other partner she’d had in her two thousand year long existence. Knew her body. Knew her limits. Knew her mind. Even as all of the blood in her brain rushed directly to between her thighs, she had more than enough brain cells firing to appreciate that she was more than a traffic-stopping body. She also had invisible scars and insecurities that she had a map to navigate without triggering.</p><p>“Kamilah,” Anastasia hissed.</p><p>“Mhm?”</p><p>“I— mmmm—“</p><p>“Use your words, Annie.”</p><p>“I need you so bad— I—,” she cut herself off with a moan, “Don’t stop. Please. You have to fuck me. I swear I’ll die if I don’t have you inside me right now!”</p><p>“You have me, my love,” she smirked, curling her fingers. “I’m yours.”</p><p>Anastasia closed her lips over hers and kissed her the way she’d always wanted to be kissed — with nothing ominous hanging over her head. Safety. Complete and utter trust. Just her and Anastasia. No guilt. No barriers. No fear. No hesitation.</p><p>“That’s it, love...”</p><p>“Kami— I’m— Can I?”</p><p>She smirked and rested her brow against hers, pressing her hand against her throat in a silent question. Anastasia nodded enthusiastically and Kamilah tightened her grip, just enough. Nothing had ever felt as natural as wrapping her hand around a slender throat and forcing a needy Anastasia to obey her. “I don’t know, can you?”

Anastasia whined.

“Keep looking at me,” she ordered. Her blood was liquid fire, hot and salty, copper and sunlight ablaze. “Hold nothing back. I want to hear every sigh, every moan, every scream.”

</p><p>With one final thrust her name flew off of Anastasia’s tongue and her back arched beneath her. Having Anastasia Sayeed splayed out beneath her and whining her name as she drowned in the blue of her eyes was something any woman would envy. Yet no woman but Kamilah would ever know what that felt like from that moment on. The though shook her composure for a second. She never planned on falling this hard for anyone. She never knew she was capable of loving this much. She still couldn’t quite believe that she’d met her. Someone she could love forever, someone who would forever love her back. Someone she’d waited more than two thousand years to meet, who’d been born half a world away. The math seemed impossible, yet there she was, staring at the other half of her in awe. It felt like her soul had known hers since the beginning of everything, like they were from the same star.</p><p>“You're mine until the last breath leaves my body,” Kamilah mumbled in her native tongue between the lazy kisses she was littering across her face. “Until the last beat of my heart.”</p><p>“You’re mine. You always have been, you always will be,” Anastasia smiled, softly, and nuzzled her face against hers. She understood enough of the ancient language to know exactly what she’d said. At Kamilah’s very core — her deepest, darkest secret depths — this was what she’d always wanted. Always. A woman who wanted her with this intense ferocity and made damn sure she knew that she belonged to her and only her. She didn’t deserve her at all. But that didn’t stop her from wanting her more than she wanted her next breath.</p><p>She had shown her that there was so much more to life than she’d ever known. She was her something real to grasp on to at the end of the day. She grounded her. She kept her sane.</p><p>Kamilah gazed into her eyes and stroked her bottom lip lovingly with her thumb. “Mine,” she whispered.</p><p>“Yes, yours. Only yours. Always.”</p><p>They didn’t have nearly enough time to bask in the afterglow as Kamilah would have liked, as they had to fix one another’s appearance before their arrival at the highly publicised club opening. Some primal part of her loved the fact that Anastasia didn’t care to cover the marks on her neck, with the wedding set on her finger and Kamilah’s marks on her neck, everyone who looked at her would see that she was claimed. That she was hers.</p><p>“I don’t actually like people enough for this much human interaction in one sitting,” grumbled Kamilah as they pulled up at the club. She hated parties, especially when so many mortal celebrities would be in attendance because of the film festival. She was an introvert who just didn’t enjoy being with most people. Solitude was a basic need of hers like blood and water, but she realised it was not so for others. People, at least in her experience, rarely said anything interesting to each other. They always talked about the mundane details of their lives and they didn’t have very interesting lives. And she hated the wannabe stand-up comics who tried and failed to hold court; she thought funny was something a person was, not something they desperately tried to be in front of a roomful of obnoxious people. So she’d get impatient and grumpy, and tended to follow her wife around like a shadow because her company never became overwhelming and she’d happily do all the talking when she knew Kamilah just couldn’t stomach it. For some reason she tended to think you should only say something if it’s interesting or absolutely has to be said. So parties became a rather exhausting experience after approximately twenty minutes of being there. She continued, “I’m fine with having pictures taken but I draw the line at conversing with journalists about who designed my dress and what shoes I’m wearing.”</p><p>“Kamilah, sweetheart,” Anastasia breathed, “I’ll do the talking. Just look pretty... and, you know, try not to whip out the daggers if someone pisses you off.”</p><p>“When someone pisses me off. It’s inevitable, especially in a room full of mortals.”</p><p>Anastasia giggled and affectionately stroked her hair. “I know.”</p><p>She barely managed to contain a string of irritated curse words as the door opened. Crowds cheered as they exited the car and security on the long red carpet leading into the club cleared a path before them like Moses at the Red Sea. Thanks to Lily’s movie and the subsequent Netflix docuseries about what they’d done, everyone knew their names. </p><p>Anastasia handled it with grace, if there was anyone who was born to be famous, it was her. Whereas Kamilah just didn’t care for fame in the slightest. It was crazy and impressive to watch her, and she had absolutely no idea how she did it. It was all presence and authority and alpha-female pheromones... and it drove her crazy.</p><p>The crowd loved her, loved the girl who’d saved the world multiple times. To them, she was a mystery to unravel, a puzzle they desperately wanted to solve. Practically everyone wanted Anastasia. Wanted her for their own. The whole world could fuck off for all Kamilah cared. Anastasia was hers, and the random guy with the sign that said ‘Marry Me, Anastasia’ was just begging to meet the pointy end of her daggers.</p><p>“She can’t fucking marry you, douchebag,” Kamilah muttered below her breath, as she tried to prevent herself from crushing the mortal boy’s head between her palms. “She’s already married to me.”</p><p>Right then, she realised she was jealous. For the first time in her life that she could actually remember, she was fucking jealous. And it was of a teenage boy holding a piece of hot pink fucking poster board, who’d obviously snuck into the opening with a fake I.D.</p><p>“Somebody’s thirsty,” Lily snorted into the mojito she was drinking as she sidled up to her.</p><p>Kamilah scoffed, but didn’t deny a damn thing. She’d only recently learned what ‘thirsty’ actually meant in modern terms, after becoming extremely confused about why the girl was always so concerned with people becoming dehydrated. “I assure you, my thirst was well quenched in the car on the way here.”</p><p>There was a choking sound as Lily’s eyes widened and her shoulders began to shake with laughter. “So that’s why my girl’s skin looks so dewy. I thought she was trying out a new highlighter. Damn, yours looks good too.”</p><p>She shrugged, feeling perhaps a bit too proud of herself. “Indeed it does. She’s a unique creature, my wife.”</p><p>“I think you bragging about fucking your wife in the car might be my new favourite thing—“</p><p>“Do I even want to know what this conversation is about?,” Adrian asked as her appeared with Serafine on his arm.</p><p>“Kamilah was horny and banged Anastasia in the car on the way here,” Lily deadpanned. “That’s why our girl is sparkling up a storm like Edward Cullen over there.”</p><p>Adrian’s cheeks flushed bright red and Serafine simply cast her an amused smile. </p><p>“Uh... congratulations?,” Adrian stammered. “I’m assuming this wasn’t the first time—“</p><p>“We have been together for ten years, brother. I assure you it was not the first time,” Kamilah scolded him.</p><p>Serafine and Lily both spluttered with laughter, and Serafine playfully jabbed her elbow into Adrian’s ribs. “Please tell me you were joking, mon amie?”</p><p>Adrian’s cheeks grew redder. “Well, Lily seems so proud... I just assumed that it must have been a monumental occasion—“</p><p>“Dude, you have zero chill,” Lily snorted. “Bow out of the conversation before she stabs you.”</p><p>Adrian’s brow furrowed. “Chill? The temperature is quite agreeable—“</p><p>“When they're together, it's like putting a hurricane and a tornado in the same room — you can feel the tension. I didn't believe in the cliche of soul mates until I saw them together. Of course they’re fucking like cats and dogs!,” said Lily.</p><p>Kamilah rolled her eyes and had to resist the urge to punch him in the face for his stupidity. She resolved not to break the news that they’d slept together for the first time at his cabin, as he’d probably have passed out, but it was at that exact moment in his cabin that Kamilah’s ancient heart threaded with Anastasia’s. It was as if someone had reached down with a sewing needle and stitched her soul to hers. How could one woman be so sharp and so vulnerable at the same time? Whatever would happen to her would happen to Kamilah. Whatever pain she would feel, she would feel it too. And she had wanted it — that had been the most surprising part. Selfish, and infamously self-centred Kamilah Sayeed loved a woman so much she had already felt herself changing to accommodate her needs, after one night with her.</p><p>“I feel bad for Serafine if you don’t pin her to the backseat of that fancy car of yours on occasion, brother,” she said, “and I believe we now have the definitive answer to a certain age old question that has bothered us for centuries.”</p><p>“We do not,” Adrian grumbled. “Serafine?”</p><p>“Serafine?,” echoed Kamilah.</p><p>“Spill the tea!,” Lily shrieked.</p><p>Serafine soothingly stroked his arm, despite giggling so hysterically tears were streaming down her face and she couldn’t string a sentence together.</p><p>“What are we laughing about?,” Anastasia beamed as she approached them.</p><p>“Girl, Adrian thought you were a virgin,” Lily spluttered.</p><p>“I did not think she was a virgin—“</p><p>“He did. He thought you lost the V-card on the way here,” Lily smirked. “And we like the new highlighter. I hear the Kamilah collection is quite good.”</p><p>Anastasia’s jaw dropped, which only intensified the laughter, and Kamilah pushed red hair away from her shoulders to proudly show off the marks littering the side of her neck. Her kisses. Her marks.</p><p>“You pervert!,” Anastasia giggled, rolling her eyes. </p><p>Kamilah snorted. “You married me.”</p><p>“Oh, and she wanted to stab the kid with the pink sign,” Lily added. “Jealous Kamilah is a work of art.”</p><p>Kamilah grumbled below her breath and Anastasia looped her arms around her neck. As much as she wanted to force the overly-possessive feelings away, she couldn't do it. This moment ... this woman? Was everything. Everything she held dear.</p><p>“She wasn’t jealous, Lil.”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” smirked Lily.</p><p>Tucking her hair behind her ear, Anastasia met her eyes. “She wasn’t jealous, she’s just very protective. Jealous is when you want something that’s not yours. Protective is looking after what’s yours already.”</p><p>She rested her brow against hers and held her so, so close, smiling contentedly. Anastasia was innocent where she was hardened, and sweet where she was rough. But by some world shattering miracle this angel thought she was good enough for her, and Kamilah was hers. Body and soul.</p><p>“Apparently I have now officially secured my front row seat on the train to Hell,” Adrian chuckled.</p><p>“Choo-choo,” snorted Lily.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Affection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter Inspired by ‘Affection’ by Cigarettes After Sex.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I meant to have the packages sent to my apartment,” Mathew sighed. It was the first thing he’d said in over twenty minutes. The mortal boy’s heart was beating like a drum as he stood in front of Kamilah’s desk, after being read the riot act for his embarrassing blunder. Were it not for Anastasia’s insistence that she be present for their meeting to keep her calm, she very likely would have torn his head from his shoulders. </p><p>Mathew had watched her pace, listened to her vent, which had probably been a smart move on his part. If he had to come too near the clawing she-beast and he may lose an important appendage, and wouldn’t that be a shame?</p><p>Today was, quite literally, the most Monday of Mondays to ever have Mondayed.</p><p>“If someone hadn’t been injured, would you have informed me?,” Kamilah asked.</p><p>Mathew gaped at her. “Of course. Sometimes you have to live your life with the motto...#NoRegrets—“</p><p>“Hashtag?,” she asked, her brow furrowing as she turned to her wife for clarification.</p><p>“Its an internet thing you don’t care about, Kami.” Anastasia sighed and glared at Mathew, “Please don’t speak in hashtags, it’s obnoxious and it stresses her out. It’s Monday morning, let’s tone it down.”</p><p>“Sorry,” he cringed. “What I meant was that sometimes you have to ignore the way people perceive you and do what you feel is right. Of course I would have told you.”</p><p>Kamilah had never been renowned for her patience or empathy. In fact, she struggled to be patient or empathetic at all with anyone besides the four people she actually liked. She especially struggled to be either of those things with incompetent mortals whose very existence burdened hers, but she was trying to mellow herself out. Really, she was. She’d gone to the trouble of downing shots of vodka before calling her bumbling assistant into her office. She’d calmed herself by making love to her wife that very morning, and for someone having never understood the sentiment of making love for more than two thousand years, or how it differed from sex, what she’d had that morning and many others, she now understood it perfectly. And she’d even told her wife to take over if she thought her behaviour would end in a lawsuit. The new Kamilah Sayeed was going to be as levelheaded as she pretended to be when she was seething inside, in control, and most importantly: calm.</p><p>“There was three entire boxes filled with dildos sent here!,” she snapped. “One is understandable. But three?! You have been working for me for almost six-and-a-half years now, enlighten me as to why you thought that this behaviour was in any way acceptable?! You are either a very brave or a very stupid man.”</p><p>“I’m stupid. A stupid, stupid man. A disaster gay. It was so stupid and inexcusable,” Mathew mumbled. “My new boyfriend insisted we try them and—“</p><p>“I don’t know if that means he’s off-the-charts incredible, or whether I should send a sympathy bouquet to you for all the years of shitty sex you’re about to have,” Kamilah blurted out. It was the vodka talking. Angry Kamilah on the vodka before ten in the morning tended to say things that sober Kamilah wouldn’t dream of. She was incredibly intelligent, very book smart, but give her a drink of straight vodka on an empty stomach and she became the hot-mess express, selling tickets for everyone to see. The sex toys he’d ordered were the cheapest, most run-of-the-mill knock offs money could buy... and she knew damn well she payed him better than that.</p><p>“Lawsuit waiting to happen,” Anastasia whispered. Kamilah glanced at her and felt herself soften a little. She wanted to slay dragons for this woman — even though she was one of them. “Calm the fuck down. I like this kid, so I don’t want to have to play with his mind if you lose your temper.”</p><p>Kamilah had to shoulder everything herself for a long time. This rage that existed just below the surface. But she was not alone anymore, and she didn’t have to hold it all in because she was afraid the people who relied on her couldn’t handle the truth. Anastasia was there, and she was strong enough to carry every burden weighing her down. She trusted her, and she knew that she had her back. She would keep her safe, even when the enemy she was facing down was herself.</p><p>“I— Wait, they’re bad?”</p><p>Kamilah cleared her throat. “Getting back to what I was saying—“</p><p>“I was drunk when I placed the order and typed in the wrong delivery address. It won’t happen again and I told everyone what happened—“</p><p>“What did you say?,” she asked, hesitantly.</p><p>“I told them I’m gay, cause, obviously, and I ordered all the dicks. I just love those. Dicks are great. Who doesn’t love dicks?”</p><p>“Many people,” Anastasia snorted.</p><p>“Do you think before you speak, Mathew?”</p><p>“I do this nervous talking thing when I’m in trouble. Ruined quite a few relationships because of it. It’s horrible.”</p><p>“Yeah, we noticed,” said Anastasia.</p><p>Kamilah pinched the bridge of her nose to try and stave off a migraine. The packages may have been addressed to the mortal, but she’d been the one who’d gotten many strange looks when she’d arrived to work that morning. For some reason she’d hired mortals too dimwitted to know that she could hear them even when they thought they were whispering, so she’d heard the remarks— not that she cared. It was just unprofessional, that was all.</p><p>Part of her didn’t want to forgive his stupid, selfish decisions just because they backfired on him. The asshole made his bed, and now he could lie in it... far, far away from her and Ahmanet Financial. But the other part of her knew that he was dedicated to his job. He knew her routines. He didn’t piss her off as regularly as the other mortals she had to interact with.... and he was gay, so he didn’t eye up her wife when she came to visit, like the vast majority of the men who worked for her — and if he did, it was because he was admiring her makeup, not because he wanted to bed her. Assistants were like puppies, one had to have to have lots of patience, plenty of discipline, house-train them, but they’d still make infuriating blunders like this one.</p><p>“A grown man fell and broke his wrist, Mathew,” she sighed, “and now its me who has to pay compensation because of your drunken mistake—“</p><p>“Take it out of my pay check—“</p><p>“Do you want to live on the streets and starve to death, mortal?,” she snapped.</p><p>Anastasia cleared her throat and gave her a soft kick on the back of her calf beneath her desk. She glanced over her shoulder at her sat in her swivel chair and could read the expression on her face as clearly as if she’d shaken her by the shoulders and yelled at her to chill out. So she took a deep breath. Then another. And another. If she could keep breathing, she could control the knee-jerk impulses that Gaius had once valued more than her life.</p><p>Blue eyes softened and Anastasia reached across the marble table top to place her hand on top of hers. She’d confiscated the daggers she kept on her persons at all times, and had even gone as far to have her sit on the front of her desk, so that anything sharp and pointy was far enough out of her reach that she wouldn’t be tempted to stab him when he inevitably pissed her off.</p><p>Anastasia knew this side of her existed. This anger. She’d seen it directed towards others. She’d placated it when she’d wrongfully directed it towards her during Lily’s Turning. But she was never afraid of it. Never afraid that Kamilah would ever lash out at her, the way she tended to lash out at others before really thinking through the whole of her actions. And because of that, the ancient vampire knew there was nothing she need to hide from her. She accepted her as she was, but gently encouraged her to be the very best version of herself that she was capable of being. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world. With her, she felt whole.</p><p>Kamilah sighed, but kept looking at her wife. Anastasia’s warmth and softness and sweet scent enveloped her until nothing else existed. Until she was her whole world. When she’d first arrived into her life, the primal attack-first-think-later part of herself had warned that this silly, cute, cocky, infuriating woman was her enemy. She became her friend instead. And now... she was just plain hers. Her life line. Her saviour. The reason she opened her eyes and rolled out of bed in the morning. Her everything.</p><p>She focused on her heartbeat, ignoring the thundering of the chastised assistants. The heart was a strange and amazing muscle. One couldn’t live or love without it, but most people didn’t think about it often. Didn’t think about the steady, faithful organ that beat one hundred thousand times a day. Most people probably didn’t know that a woman’s heartbeat was faster than a man’s by about eight beats per minute, even a woman vampire’s heart beat faster than a man’s. And Anastasia’s, it may as well have been her own personal brand of Xanax. It calmed her down, kept her out of trouble.</p><p>She turned back to the nervous mortal and cleared her throat. Her eyes narrowed. She was going to hell. She knew that with full certainty, but there was a long list of people she’d like to send there ahead of her, and he topped the list. But she took a deep breath and calmed herself. “You comprehend the gravity of the situation, yes?”</p><p>“Yes,” Mathew nodded.</p><p>“And you understand that I am doing you a favour by not only allowing you to keep your job, but not taking you to court and having you pay for the consequences of your drunken mistake?”</p><p>“You’re not firing me?! Shit, thank you! Oh fuck—“</p><p>“Mathew,” Anastasia coughed, “Shut the fuck up—“</p><p>“Language,” Kamilah sighed. She didn’t really care about the swearing at all, but in front of her employees she wouldn’t tolerate it.</p><p>“Sorry,” Anastasia and Mathew said in unison.</p><p>“Do bear in mind that if this happens again, I will not hesitate to fire you,” she grumbled.</p><p>Mathew nodded. “I understand.”</p><p>“You may go.”</p><p>Mathew left without another word, and the moment the door closed behind him, Kamilah found herself laying flat on her back atop her desk with her wife straddling her stomach. Her eyes drifted closed just as her warm, full lips press softly against hers. When she sucked lightly on her bottom lip, she opened to her. Then, so slowly it made her ache, she brushed her tongue against hers. The. Woman. Could. Kiss.</p><p>“I’m proud of you,” Anastasia mumbled into her mouth.</p><p>“Do elaborate,” she smirked.</p><p>“You didn’t stab him.”</p><p>Having Anastasia straddling her this intimately, Kamilah couldn’t help but slide her hands up her bare thighs, pushing her skirt aside and caressing her pale, exposed skin. Her body felt taut and poised for action.</p><p>“Indeed, but only because you stole my daggers and threatened to use your abilities to keep me sat on the desk if I lost my temper.” She pouted, playfully. “It seems like a drastic method of avoiding another lawsuit.”</p><p>Anastasia giggled softly and rested her brow against hers. “I will take you out tonight, get you drunk, and get you to stop worrying. Then I’ll give you the strap or something because you need some serious stress relief.”</p><p>“My love,” she warned. “I plan on tying you to the bed and doing the most unspeakable things to you to reassert my dominance. I’m going to fuck you until the entire world hears you scream my name.”</p><p>Anastasia smirked. “Aww. Feeling too much like a bottom cause I threatened you with a time out?”</p><p>Kamilah snorted and tried to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “No.”</p><p>Anastasia’s soft, hot body collapsed onto her own ravenous frame. She pushed her legs open with her knee and pulled her arms above her head with her hands, holding her a willing hostage. For one long moment they were eye to eye. Her breasts pressed down onto hers, goading them but offering no release, and then her lips came crashing down on hers. She kissed her as though she owned her; exploring her familiar mouth with her tongue, dragging it aggressively from one side of her lips to the other.</p><p>“You’re a terrible liar.”</p><p>“Stand up.”</p><p>Anastasia raised an eyebrow, a smile twitching at the corners of her lips at the tone of her voice. “What?”</p><p>“Stand up. Take off your blouse, pull up your skirt, and bend over the desk.”</p><p>“Hell yes!” The redhead practically leapt off of her, obedient as ever. “What’s the saying? A lady in the streets and a whore between the sheets?”</p><p>She snorted. “You’re no one’s whore, but fuck if you aren’t one dirty girl. And I love it. Every single fucking bit of it.”</p><p>She felt dazed, as she watched her blouse fall to the floor. Her eyes never left Anastasia’s body, and Anastasia knew her well enough to know how she loved watching her as she undressed. Her eyes mined into her as she pulled up her skirt, torturously slowly. She’d seen her undress countless times before. Yet this was different. She was not just undressing, she was stripping. It was not her decision; it was Kamilah’s command. She was not just Kamilah now; she was her wife – some dominant entity now in charge. For many reasons, she absolutely adored this side of their relationship. The look in Anastasia’s eyes was not just appreciative; it was carnal. Waves began to rise in her pool of desire at the sight of her.</p><p>“That might be the best compliment you’ve ever given me. Have I told you lately that I love you?”</p><p>“Indeed, you have,” she smiled, “but if you sing that song to me, I’m going to slap you.”</p><p>Anastasia giggled. “I have a lovely voice.”</p><p>“You do... but I hate the song.” Kamilah moved around behind her and gently guided her down, so that she was bent over the side of her desk and entirely exposed. She nipped at her ear and whispered, “Do you want this?”</p><p>“You know damn well I do.”</p><p>She’d never realised how the knowledge that a woman belonged to her and only her would affect her brain and body. She’d gone a century without any intimacy at all and thought nothing of it, and now making it until lunch was a challenge. “Good girl,” she breathed, kissing the shell of her ear, then the back of her neck. “Say your safeword for me?”</p><p>“Red.”</p><p>She smiled. “You have a gorgeous ass, and it holds my handprints beautifully.”</p><p>Without another word Kamilah tore off the lacy red underwear she was wearing, exposing her entirely to her as she dug her fingernails into her creamy white skin, making her gasp. </p><p>“Open your mouth.”</p><p>Anastasia did as she was told, and she stuffed her balled up panties into her mouth. As much as she wanted her entire office to hear her screaming her name, her professional reputation needed her quiet until Mathew’s mistake had blown over.</p><p>“Next time you wear this skirt with me, you’re not wearing panties, and I’m going to make you cum while we’re in a room full of people. Understood?”</p><p>Anastasia mumbled eagerly around the makeshift gag as Kamilah’s hands wandered the familiar contours of her body. She clawed at her thighs and scraped her fangs against her neck, pressing herself flush against her back. There was a meeting she’d planned on attending happening a few rooms away, but she couldn’t tear herself from her wife. Her meetings could wait. With her, she felt all the extremes. There was nothing average about what they had.</p><p>She reached down between her legs, her breath hitching as she felt her wetness. Her lips brushed against the pulse point in her neck, concealing her smile. “I’ve barely even touched you yet.”</p><p>Anastasia mumbled something unintelligible around her gag as she reached back and slipped her hand into Kamilah’s hair. The gesture was so sweet that she had to stop and thank every higher power for putting this woman in her life. Because, holy fucking Christ, there was nothing she did to deserve this.</p><p>Her wife was bent over her desk with a thong in her mouth like some kind of fantasy come to life, wearing nothing but a scrap of red lace that one might call a bra, but that she could see her nipples through. Her legs were splayed wide, and she was dripping for her. Her eyes were closed as Kamilah wrapped a hand around her neck circled her clit far too lightly for any real relief, and Anastasia threw her head back and let out a moan.</p><p>Kamilah knew that when Anastasia submitted to her, it was quite literally the most precious gift she could give. Herself. Unreservedly. She knew she had to respect and honour that gift above all else. Even if she respected nothing else in the world, she must respect the woman in her arms, no matter how mild or intensive their playtime was. It was her duty to protect, honour and cherish her submissive. To take care of her and provide a safe haven, regardless of what they were doing.</p><p>“I love redheads. It’s not necessarily the hair colour, it’s the crazy,” she teased, giving her hair a tug and eliciting a choked moan.</p><p>She moved suddenly so that her hand was cupping her sex, and one of her fingers sank slowly into her. Teasing her. Her other arm held her firmly in place around her slender waist. </p><p>“This is mine, darling,” she whispered, almost purring. “All mine. Do you understand?” </p><p>She slowly eased her finger in and out as she gazed down at her on the desk, gauging her reactions, her brown eyes burning crimson.</p><p>Anastasia nodded and moaned around her panties. </p><p>Kamilah did not know what marriages were like for other people. She knew marriages should be all about respect and treating your wife like a lady, and for some people it stopped at that. That was crap, as far as she and Anastasia were concerned. Anastasia was her wife. Hers. And they both enjoyed it far too much when Kamilah was allowed to do all sorts of filthy things to her. Her beloved little toy. She made a point of fucking her as often as she could and in as many ways as her filthy mind could come up with. In its own way, it was good for Kamilah to indulge in things that weren’t for her pleasure, but Anastasia’s. That was the very definition of a strong marriage, in her book.</p><p>She pulled the panties out of her mouth and replaced them with two of her fingers as she teased her entrance. “You like that?”</p><p>Anastasia nodded frantically.</p><p>She took her fingers away from her mouth and turned her around, lifting her up to sit on the desk before slipping her hand back between her thighs.</p><p>“Please. Don’t stop. I just want to—”</p><p>“You want to cum?”</p><p>She nodded helplessly.</p><p>“Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got you.” She dropped to her knees, and her hand trailed up her inner thigh, teasing her with the promise of orgasms. “I want to taste you first.”</p><p>“I— Oh!”</p><p>She brushed hot, feverish kisses up and down the lips of her sex and closed her mouth over her lips and playing with them before slipping her tongue between her folds. Anastasia gasped, her fingers tangling in her hair as she tongued her, slowly, making low, growling noises in her throat like a big cat purring with pleasure while it devoured its prey.</p><p>“Kamilah—“</p><p>“Keep saying my name,” she murmured, slipping her hand into her own waistband.</p><p>“Kamilah— mmm—,” Anastasia moaned, gutting herself off with a sharp gasp. Her hips began to move, rising upward in repeated surges, guiding her rhythm while her tongue strummed, bathed, flirted.</p><p>She smiled against her, the sound of her own name mixed with little gasps and soft moans emptying her mind of all the must dos and should have dones. She was pure being. Anastasia’s pleasure her only concern.</p><p>She pushed two fingers into her, feeling her wet walls contract against her knuckles, smelling the rise of her arousal as she mirrored the action on herself. Anastasia whined under her, her soft thighs thrashing restlessly, making no sound, but she knew. She knew. She curled the fingers inside her and stroked her wet, silky inner walls as she pulled them back. Then she shoved them again into her, hard and firm, repeating the motion as she sucked on her clit.</p><p>Anastasia moaned — loud in the quiet room but impossible for mortals to hear — and pushed against her, and she felt her tremble and suddenly grow wetter. She shuddered helplessly and she was drunk on her release, finding her own simultaneously. It was wonderful, but she craved more. The difference between a self-induced orgasm and an orgasm given by Anastasia was like comparing a rain shower and a rain storm. Rain was a sure thing, she knew exactly what she was going to get: a clean and crisp, both pleasant and refreshing experience. But rainstorms were unpredictable things, they were absolutely riddled with surprises, messy and wet; they were something she had no control over, and felt safe in the knowledge that her body was in safe hands.

</p><p>As she caught her breath she turned her head and kissed the inside of her thigh, listening to her pant.</p><p>“That was—“</p><p>“Foreplay,” Kamilah smirked, nipping at her thigh. She sighed with satisfaction, her body warm as she kissed her thigh, smiling. Still fully dressed in her expensive Armani suit, she was absolutely gloriously spent after fucking the life out of her.</p><p>“Are we going home?”</p><p>“Indeed we are. I’m a woman of my word, and can’t very well tie you down and make you scream in here, can I?”</p><p>“Well... you could... but then the rumours that the dildos were yours would never stop and you’d probably inspire a better Fifty Shades trilogy.”</p><p>She huffed and climbed on top of her, laying herself down on her chest. “I could just make you walk to the elevator like that to prove to everyone I don’t need them to wreck you.”</p><p>“Fifty Shades of Sayeed.”</p><p>“How fitting. You already share a name with the protagonist. Should I start calling you Ana?”</p><p>Anastasia giggled and pushed her hair out of her face, pressing her lips against the top of her head. “I hate you.”</p><p>For some reason that actually made her smile. This happiness, this freedom... was everything. The funny thing about true happiness, though, was that she had never known it’d been inside her until Anastasia had pulled it out and proven once and for all that she was actually capable of feeling it. Her lips curved upwards into a smile and she murmured, “I hate you, too, my love. I hate you, too.”</p><p> </p><p>- fin.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>